A few days ago, Brynna asked me an intriguing question. "Mommy," she began, all sweetness and innocence, "What can I be when I grow up that I'll be good at and will make enough money that I can have a horse?"
I'm sorry, sweetie. Your mom has a degree in English literature. You are clearly asking the wrong person.
Honestly, it started a very interesting conversation about vocation. She ruled out Doctor because she doesn't like blood and she wants time to play with her horse. She ruled out Teacher because they don't make enough. She ruled out Stylist because she wants her nights free. (For horse playing, I assume.)
In any case, she still doesn't know what she wants to be.
That's okay, pigeon, neither do I.
What made the conversation so interesting to me was the matter-of-fact nature with which she discussed her future. It wasn't all big dreams, there was a serious practical-ness there that I absolutely lack. I see what I want and what I can have as being on opposite sides of an impossible chasm. I see every profession that isn't "J.K. Rowling" as a failure and a compromise of my dreams.
Brynna sees it as a means to an end. She wants a horse. She wants to make art. She knows that she needs a paycheck to do those things. She doesn't think that her entire career has to revolve around those things for her to be happy.
I wonder sometimes how I raised such a well-adjusted child. Then she tries to sit on the cat and I know that it all comes out in the wash.
I've been thinking about what I want to be, not in the vocational sense. The truth is that even though I kinda think it would be awesome to do something else, I'm good at what I do. I am talented and appreciated and I make okay money at it. I have a good boss who thinks I'm the bee's knees and I don't really need to do anything else.
So, what else do I want to be? Pretty? Smart? Skinny? Funny? Alpha-mom? Crafter extraordinaire? Person who dances in the living room? Mom who makes awesome suppers? Baker? Badass? Reader? Writer? Yoga doer?
I don't know yet, but I think it's pretty amazing how many possibilities there are out there when you quit thinking about paychecks and start thinking about love.
On another note, Maren wants to be a "...Mudder, just like you, Mommy." I'm not sure I'm worth that sort of admiration, but I want to be someday.
Also, I'm assuming she means "Mother," and not "person who drives a truck around in the mud."